


A soul of Ice and Fire

by irismoon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:53:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irismoon/pseuds/irismoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon wakes to find himself on a beach with Ygritte, who has returned from the beyond with a message for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A soul of Ice and Fire

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS for A Dance with Dragons, as well as speculation to what will happen in The Winds of Winter. Also contains both the theories of Jon Snow / Azor Ahai and Lyanna + Rhaegar = Jon. 
> 
> This is just a little drabble i could not get out of my head. My first time writing Jon snow. 
> 
> I do not have a beta so this might be rough. Constructive Criticism is always welcome, and i dont mind spelling errors and stuff being pointed out but please no grammar Nazis. I know its a mess, and I am informing you right here that it is lol. :)
> 
> It all belongs to GRRM. I am just borrowing them.
> 
> I pictured the dress that Ygritte wears like the one that Shae wears on the show.

Jon 

 

His first thought upon opening his eyes was that it was bright. Too bright, the sun shone in his eyes making everything glow with a warm orange and yellow hue. It was the wrong color, everything at the Wall was a dreary white and gray, making it feel like the end of the world. 

He blinked trying to adjust his eyes to the bright glare of the sun. He heard her laugh long before his her face finally slowly appeared before him. Her fiery red hair was a mess, wild, tangled and floating around her head as she danced around before him. She was wearing a very skimpy dress, made of some rich fabric, silk or satin, and pink, the color looked strange on her. He had never seen her wear anything but heavy furs, brown or gray, their bulk hiding her slender body beneath their warmth. 

The dress bared her back and arms, the thin fabric clung to her body and he could see the curves of her breasts, her nipples poking through the bodice. She laughed as she danced, twirling before him. 

"Look at me Lord Snow, finally dressed like one of your proper southern ladies." 

"A true lady would never wear such a dress. It would not be decent to show so much skin." He spoke, and she stopped dancing. She looked down frowning and smoothed out a wrinkle in her skirt. 

"I forgot how you Southerners spend all your time worrying about things like proper dresses and such." She threw her head back and laughed. 

He had missed her laugh. He stepped forward and reached for her, but almost lost his footing. Looking down he saw that he was barefoot. He wiggled his toes and reached down to touch the warm sand as his feet sunk farther into it. He cupped some into his hands and watched as it trickled through his fingers, grain by grain. Looking around he realized they were on a beach of some sort. The trees were foreign to him and he could hear the roar of the sea off in the distance. 

Ygritte was watching him. When she saw him looking at her, she turned and ran away. He laughed and began to chase. His feet felt heavy in the sand, and for every step he took it seemed that he sunk further in. Before long he slowed and pulled his feet out of the sand one at a time. He watched as Ygritte ran back to him, her feet seemed to glide over the sand, almost as if her feet never touched the ground at all. 

Again he reached for her, but she twirled spun away, just out of his reach. She danced toward one of the trees. "What are these strange things?" she asked reaching up and grasping one of the brightly colored fruits hanging from the branches. 

"I am not sure what they are called." He reached up and pulled one down. He took his dagger from his belt and cut the fruit in half, the thick sticky juice running down his fingers. He held out one of the sections to her. She eagerly took it, her fingers brushing against his so lightly, he was unable to feel her touch. She took a small bite and smiled. 

He had missed her smile. He watched as her tongue darted out of her mouth to lick at a drop of juice that ran down her lip. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her lips and taste that juice, but before he could attempt to reach for her again, she dropped the fruit, and wiped her hands on her gown in the most unladylike fashion and ran away again. 

Quickly he followed her through the trees until they reached the water. They stood side by side watching the waves crash in. Slowly she walked closer until the waves licked at her toes. She laughed and wiggled her toes into the wet sand. She pulled her dress up past her knees and jumped into the water, splashing around. As she moved further into the water, a larger wave came and she stumbled, losing her footing and falling into the water. She stood up sputtering. 

"The water tastes salty." she exclaimed. 

"Yes the water from the sea is different." he explained to her. He gown was soaked and it stuck to her skin. He could see the pink of her nipples and the soft patch of curls that covered her mound thru the fabric now. She turned her back to him and pulled the gown over her head standing before him naked. The sight of her naked made his cock twitch and he wanted nothing more than to make love to her again. 

She tossed the gown aside and as she turned back around to face him he saw she had an arrow sticking from between her breasts. Blood flowed down her stomach, dark red against the pale white of her skin. His heart broke as he suddenly remembered everything. 

"Ygritte. Your dead." 

She looked at him oddly. "You know nothing Jon Snow." 

"I remember now. You died. I burned your body myself." He looked around at the beach and the sun and the endless crashing of the waves. Everything here was the opposite of where he belonged. He did not understand what was happening. "What is this place?" he asked her.

"Somewhere near the place you were born." she whispered. "You needed to be close to where your journey began." 

"No this is the south. Dorne I think. I am from the North." He shook his head in confusion trying to make sense of everything that was happening around him. 

"That is why I have brought you here. Your soul only knows the ice. But yours is a soul of ice and fire. There is a great fire inside you as well. You need to know that if you are to be ready for what is to come next. The fire will make you strong again." 

"I do not understand." 

She smiled sadly. "You will soon." she turned from him and began to walk into the sea. She dove beneath the waves. When she rose up past the surface she began to swim away. He hurried after her trying to catch up with her. Every wave seemed to push him farther back towards the shore, and her further out to sea. After a time he stopped swimming and called out to her. 

"Ygritte, please don't leave me." 

She stopped and turned to smile at him. "You know nothing Jon Snow." she said again, before she continued swimming into the sea. The waves crashed and pushed him against the sand of the shore and soon he gave up, walking a few steps onto the beach and sitting alone on the sand. He wrapped his arms around his knees and looked out at the water, trying to catch a glimpse of her fiery hair, but Ygritte was gone. 

Looking off to the side, he was surprised to see Ghost silently walking towards him. He stopped and sniffed at the sodden wet gown laying on the sand. Jon stood and hurried to pick it up before the waves carried it away. He held the wet garment in his hands, the silk material soft against his skin. He raised it to his face, hoping to catch a whiff of her scent but all he smelled was the sea. 

He stared at Ghost. He seemed as out of place here as well. Ghost reminded him of everything that the North was. The snow and the bitter cold, the freefolk and the weirwoods, the old gods. Looking at Ghost reminded him where he belonged.

He thought back, remembering what Ygritte's words. "The fire will make you strong again." she had said. He took a deep breath but suddenly there was pain. He reached down and grasped his side. When he pulled his hand away there was blood. A picture flashed in his mind, a memory it seemed. A dozen daggers, hidden in the darkness. 

He collapsed onto the ground and closed his eyes. He was cold again and behind his closed eyelids the world was gray again like it should be. He struggled to breath. 

Then suddenly he was hot, hotter than he had ever been before, his blood was boiling, and it felt as if his flesh was melting. He opened his eyes and saw the red woman Melisandre there in front of him. Her lips were on his as he felt his body burning. As the fire filled him, he felt a part of him that was ancient and powerful awaken. 

He felt more alive than he ever had before. He felt Strong.


End file.
